


Gemology

by DT Maxwell (Draya)



Series: Coffee & Carbuncles [19]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ala Mhigo (Final Fantasy XIV), Alcohol, Animal Empathy, Arcanists' Guild, Carbuncle Shenanigans, Character Study, Disney Princess Effect, FebHyurary, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Gen, Highlander Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Illicit Snacking, Introspection, Magic and Science, Mealvaan's Gate, Monster Hunter: World, Multiple Warriors of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Synesthesia, Worldbuilding, teaching baby carbuncles proper pranking protocols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/pseuds/DT%20Maxwell
Summary: Collection of assorted written fills from #FebHyurary, as hosted on both Twitter and Tumblr, featuring Synnove Greywolfe, arcanist and Warrior of Light, plus friends and family.--Tags will be updated as new chapters are added. Please refer to the Table of Contents in the first chapter for individual summaries and any necessary warnings.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light, Baderon Tenfingers & Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) & Original Character(s)
Series: Coffee & Carbuncles [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/807090
Comments: 23
Kudos: 10





	1. Table of Contents

**1\. Table of Contents**  
You are here!

 **2\. Day 3 (Flower):[A Riot of Blooms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801415/chapters/73316769)  
**Gen, featuring Synnove, Amandina, Roksana, and the importance of memory.

 **3\. Day 5 (Job):[A Headache of Paperwork](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801415/chapters/73395135)  
**Gen, featuring Synnove, Halulu, and your average day at the Arcanists' Guild.

 **4\. Day 11 (Trial):[A Thrill of Empathy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801415/chapters/73493685)  
**Gen, featuring the Squad of Light, Rathalos, and the Disney Princess effect.

 **5\. Day 17 + 18 (Food + Music):[A Synthesis of Aether](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801415/chapters/73530675)  
**Gen, featuring Synnove and Rereha, and how Synnove's aether synesthesia primarily manifests.

 **6\. Day 22 (Water):[A Splash of Mischief](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801415/chapters/73551609)  
**Implied Aymeric/WoL, featuring Synnove, Roksana, and Galette, and the appropriate timing of friendly pranks.

 **7\. Day 23 (Dungeon):[A Glimpse of Yesteryear](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801415/chapters/73599750)  
**Implied Aymeric/WoL, featuring Synnove and the Battle of Ala Mhigo.

 **8\. Day 24 (Aetheryte):[A Host of Distractions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801415/chapters/73664016)  
**Aymeric/WoL, featuring Aymeric, Synnove, and the appropriate timing of when to get obsessive about work.

 **9\. Day 28 (Celebrate!):[A Feast of Fun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801415/chapters/73722156)  
**Gen, featuring Synnove, Baderon, and Galette, and downtime at the Drowning Wench.


	2. A Riot of Blooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 3:** Flower
> 
> WARNINGS for implied references to PTSD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on my [tumblr](https://dragons-bones.tumblr.com/post/642147059104923648/ffxiv-a-riot-of-blooms) on February 3, 2021.

* * *

_Mommy?_

“Yes, Amandina?”

 _Why do you love flowers so much?_ The tiny black carbunclet reached up, whole body stretched out, to gently paw at the enormous yellow dahlia woven into Synnove’s crown braid, practically glowing against the rich brown and dyed blues.

“I wouldn’t say I _love_ them…” Synnove said absently, gently pushing morning glory seeds an ilm and a half down into the soil of the new trellis base.

Amandina plopped back down and blinked huge, dark eyes, then glanced around the yard.

The vegetable patch and kitchen herb garden were rigidly laid out in razor sharp rows smarter than any Maelstrom formation, the type of perfection possible only with a geometric genius of an arcanist as the gardener. The mint and strawberries were properly cowed for the moment in their respective boxes, and the asparagus and spinach were already peeking above the soil. It was green with growth and brown from freshly-tilled earth…

…and it was a shock of muted order among the riot of chaotic color that was the rest of Synnove’s personal domain.

Spring had come early to La Noscea and the yard was already blooming. Purple-red pansies and pink azaleas huddled beneath the shade of the huge old oak that ruled most of the yard; yellow daffodils and fringe-petaled tulips in white and pink and orange shoved at one another in the open spots of sunshine; bluebells and crocuses shyly peeked out from whatever stray corner they had found when they had gone to seed last year; the rose bushes were dotted with buds of red, blue, and white, and the morning glories in the older trellises against the sides of the house were twining new vines up the lattices, ready to explode into bloom at a moment’s notice. Save for the deck, the birdbath, a large picnicking spot beneath the oak, and the paths from the gate to the front and kitchen doors, every square ilm of land was covered in plant life that if not in flower now, would be eventually come summer or autumn, so that the yard was full of color from the last frost of winter to the first.

Amandina looked back up at Synnove, tiny face scrunched in disbelief, and yipped. _Sure, Mommy._

Synnove glanced down at the black pearl carbuncle and then flicked her gaze out over the yard before she grinned ruefully. “ _Obsession_ is likely the better choice of word,” she said dryly. But she leaned back on her heels and settled to sit on the ground cross-legged.

The carbunclet peeped excitedly and hooked her paws over her mama’s thigh to haul herself onto her leg and then tumble into her lap: this pose meant a _story!_

Roksana poked her head down from the platform built among the oak tree’s branches to see what had caught her twin’s attention, ears pricked upright. At the sight before her, she peeped, too, and scrambled down the ladder in a blur of blue-white fur. The white pearl carbunclet dashed through the flowers, tails waving in delight above the blooms, and burst into the open spot next to the trellises to crawl into Synnove’s lap next to Amandina. The pair craned their necks to peer at their mama, and they loudly cheeped in unison, _Story story story!_

Synnove laughed at them and bundled them up in her arms, raising them to kiss the patches of red fur between their ears; Amandina first, then Roksana. The pearl carbunclets purred, high and squeaky, and nuzzled against her cheeks before Synnove set them back in her lap.

The Highlander took a deep breath and let it out in a slow sigh, petting her youngest girls as she stared off into the distance. “I don’t remember very much about our home in Ala Mhigo,” she said at last, voice soft, “but I remember the flowers.

“My grandmother loved flowers, and she was the only one allowed to tend to her garden; Auntie says that the groundskeeper’s job was primarily to keep the toolshed tidy and well-stocked with mulches and fertilizers, and do whatever Grandmother couldn’t because of age at her direction. I could see her most mornings from my window, with her big straw hat, puttering around the beds with a watering can in hand. There were so many _colors_ in that garden: blues and reds and pinks and oranges and all the rest of the rainbow. And the smell… The smell was indescribable, especially in the morning during the first bloom. The morning glories covered the entire front wall of the manor, and every room—mine included—smelled of them from sunup until almost noon before the scent finally dissipated.”

Synnove’s voice wavered on the last word and she swallowed heavily, reaching up to swipe at her eyes. “There was a bench beneath the old oak—”

 _An oak tree like ours?_ Roksana interrupted excitedly.

Her mama laughed, the sound just a little watery. “Bigger! It was as old as the manor, and the manor was old, very old. It cast all the front rooms of the manor in shade, I remember that, too, and it was _perfect_ for climbing; the only ones who used the bench anymore where Grandmother and Grandfather. Even Uncle Tyr would climb with us, though he couldn’t go as high as me or Eydis or Faramund. I bought this piece of land because of that oak: it’s wonderful for climbing now, but give it another decade and it will be almost as perfect as the manor oak was.”

She stared off into the distance again, lips pressed together into a thin line, a storm of grief swirling in her eyes. Amandina and Roksana exchanged looks, nodded, and launched themselves forward to burrow into their mama’s stomach, purring so furiously they vibrated with the sound.

As planned, their actions startled a laugh out of Synnove and she bent over cackling as she reached for them and tried to pull them away. “Girls! Girls, stop it, that’s _mean!_ You know how much that tickles!”

The twins purred harder in response, and Synnove ended up toppling backwards, shrieking with laughter. The girls crawled up her torso to tuck themselves between the curves of her necks and shoulders, slowing their purrs to something softer and soothing, and Synnove eventually calmed, reaching up to wipe tears of laughter off her face and then rest her hands on the pearl carbunclets.

But her melancholy had vanished before it could turn into something darker, and that was what counted.

Eventually, she continued, looking skyward at the fluffy clouds sailing by: “Other than the kitchen garden, most of the yard here for the longest time was just clover; I had a flowerbed and the rose bushes, and one morning glory trellis, but that was it. And then Ala Mhigo was liberated, and I went back to what had once been our home, and.” She paused, swallowing again, and Amandina headbutted her cheek. Synnove smoothed her hand down the carbunclet’s purple-black ears and back, and sighed gustily.

In a stronger voice, she said, “And I saw what had been done to Grandmother’s garden. It wasn’t until I got back here that I just…I just became so _furious._ It had been my grandmother’s, it had been mine, and it had been _beautiful,_ and I was so angry it was gone. So, I went to the Botanists’ Guild and asked for a list of flowers they thought would grow well in La Noscea, and I went mad for a fortnight just planting and planting and _planting,_ I couldn’t remember how Grandmother had laid out her garden, even if I had had the same flowers as her, but I knew enough that I should try to space things so when the spring blooms faded, the summer and autumn ones could fill the voids.

“So that’s why I love flowers so much, my Amandina. They’re a bit of my childhood, and a bit of my grandmother, and a bit of reclaiming them both for the better.”

Amandina reached up and put her paw on Synnove’s nose, chirruping. _That’s a sad story, Mommy._ Her aetheric harmonic was matter of fact: observing, rather than accusatory or upset.

“Sometimes stories are sad, sparkler,” Synnove said, continuing to pet her, and petting her sister with the same motion now. Both baby carbuncles snuggled closer. “But it doesn’t mean they can’t have a little bit of hope in them, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't _intend_ for this one to be so heavy, but that's just how it works out, sometimes.


	3. A Headache of Paperwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 5:** Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my [tumblr](https://dragons-bones.tumblr.com/post/642309342338613248/febhyurary-day-5-job-halulu-what-the-swiving) on February 5, 2021.

* * *

“ _HALULU WHAT THE SWIVING HELLS IS THIS._ ”

“The fourth-years blew up half the Range. This is your third of the paperwork. Filala has already started drinking to get through hers, and I believe Thubyrgeim is considering the same based on the cursing coming from her office when I last passed by.”

“…I’m not going to like finding out how the fourth-years blew up half the Range, am I?”

“Nope.” Halulu reached up and patted the Highlander on the thigh, then placed a bottle of whiskey on her desk. With another commiserating pat, the tonberry turned on her heel and scurried out of the office.

Synnove groaned heavily as her assistant left, then dropped into her chair and placed her head on the desk so she could bang it against the ironwood top. There went her plans of a quiet afternoon catching up on the latest journal smuggled out of Sharlayan. Some days, she _deeply_ regretted agreeing to become the Aetherophysics Department Vice Chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any newcomers, the Range referenced here is a headcanon location: it's the testing island a few miles out into the ocean where the Aetherophysics Department of the Arcanists' Guild performs highly volatile experiments. (The Aetherochemistry Department has their own separate island known as the Farm.) The Range features a lot in my headcanons and some of my fics, since Synnove loves a big boom!
> 
> Some booms can be too big, though.


	4. A Thrill of Empathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 11:** Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr on February 11, 2021.

* * *

“OHMYGODSLOOKATHIMHE'SSOHANDSOMEILOVEHIMI’MGONNAPETHIM!”

“Synnove? SYNNOVE! SYNNOVE GET BACK HE–oh _no._ ”

The Highlander had pelted across the clearing so quickly she was a blur of motion, flinging herself to a stop right before the great wyvern’s nose. The creature reared back in surprise, snorting, as he stared down at the woman.

(“Doesn’t her empathy thing _not_ work on dragons?” Rere hissed.

“Consider it confirmation that isn’t one of Midgardsormr’s descendants, then,” Heron hissed back.)

Synnove beamed up at him, bouncing on her toes. “You are a very handsome lad!”

The Rathalos growled softly, canting his head to the side.

“May I pet you?”

The wyvern continued to stare at Synnove for long, quiet moments, as Rereha, Heron, Alakhai, and their new Felyne companion clung to one another in worry that this would finally be the time that Synnove’s especially strange knack with animals failed. Five heartbeats, ten. And then the Rathalos snorted again and lowered his neck to bring his head within reach of the Highlander woman.

Synnove squealed and clapped excitedly, then brought up both of her hands to gently pet and scritch his cheeks.

He squinted, and a curious, hesitant growl burring in the back of his throat as Synnove rubbed his scales and cooed to him that he was such a good, handsome boy, yes he was! And _then_ she moved her hands to spots behind the great ridged crests protecting his eyes. She dug in, scratching at the rough hide once, twice, three times—and the Rathalos’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and he collapsed with a **_CRASH_** onto his belly, purring furiously, his right hind leg kicking out behind him as his wings spasmed, the great claws on them digging furrows in the ground, churning up the soil.

Synnove laughed and kissed his nose. Rathalos purred harder, sending the nearby pebbles around him dancing from the force of the vibrations. Synnove's sisters groaned loudly, hanging their heads, while the Felyne stared in horrified fascination over Heron’s shoulder, _mrowling_ quietly until the Hellsguard reached up to rub his ears.

“So much for the bounty,” Alakhai groused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had absolutely zero clue what to do with this prompt back in FebHyurary, and even said so out loud to the FC--and two seconds after that, my brain went, "THE GREAT HUNT." And lo, more Disney Princess Effect/Animal Empathy for all of us. :D


	5. A Synthesis of Aether

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Day 17 and 18: Food and Music_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr on February 18, 2021.

* * *

**[Installing SCAEVAN SYSTEMICS operating software.]**

**[Installation successful, running update cycle.]**

**[Updates complete. Archive Node Unit 453 now online. Please specify primary user.]**

“Synnove Greywolfe.”

**[USER: SYNNOVE GREYWOLFE now registered. How may I assist you today?]**

“Please stand by for audio recording.”

**[Standing by.]**

The node’s lights dimmed from bright grass green to soft seafoam as it partially powered down, its northern and southern hemispheres slowly rotating in opposite directions. The low hum of a processor filled the otherwise still space of the tower office.

Synnove glanced over at Rereha and finally lowered her hand from its _wait, please_ position. “All right, you can babble now,” the Highlander said.

Rere took her hands off her mouth and beamed at her, golden eyes aglitter in her dark face. “Whatcha _do_ ing?” she said, in the sing-song tone of someone feeling exceptionally nosy, rocking back on her heels and tugging at her braided pink-and-white pigtails.

Synnove rolled her eyes and set her hands on her hips. “Y’shtola’s working on a compilation of aetheric synesthesic perceptions as a downtime project,” she said, idly blowing a stray strand of brown-and-blue hair from her face. “She asked me if I was willing to contribute, to which I obviously said ‘yes.’ But because I’m not often able to spend much time in Revenant’s Toll that doesn’t devolve into Warrior of Light or Ironworks business—”

“—audio recordings you can send or give her are more convenient.”

“Careful, Rere, or other people will begin realizing you’re smarter than you pretend to be.”

The lalafell gasped. “Madam, you wound me!”

She received a satisfied smirk in reply as Synnove added, gesturing to the node with a flourish, “And what better way to create an audio recording than with my new archive node?”

Rere pulled herself up onto Synnove’s desk, sitting on the edge and kicking her feet back and forth as she leaned back to rest on her hands. “Did you, ah, _liberate_ it from the Ironworks?”

“I purchased this fair and square; I have a bill of sale from Jessie herself.”

“Because Cid’s possessive.”

“Oh, Wedge is the culprit there, Allagan nodes have been his special project ever since Gilly and he turns into a broody mother hen over them.”

“Ah. And _Nero’s_ OS?”

“The fact you know that term is vaguely frightening, but the man does have an unparalleled understanding of Allagan technology _and if you tell him I said that, I will hang you by your toes from the edge of the Steps of Faith._ ”

Rere mimed locking her lips.

“Hand me that stack of paper, please.” Synnove pointed to Rere’s right. The lalafell snagged it and dutifully handed it over.

The arcanist shuffled through them, humming tunelessly as she did, before she came across the correct page. “All right,” she said, mostly to herself. “Start with Y’shtola’s list of baseline sensations today and go from there.” Louder now: “Begin recording.”

**[Audio recording now live.]**

Synnove automatically straightened her spine and rolled down her shoulders in the same way she did before she began a lecture for the fourth-year arcanist students. In a clear, strong voice: “Synnove Greywolfe recording for Y’shtola Rhul on the 18th day of the Second Umbral Moon, 11 Year of the Seventh Astral Era, on the subject of synesthetic perceptions of aether. I personally perceive aether, in addition to the usual visual manifestations, as both _taste_ and _sound._ Occasionally, one sensation will dominate the other, and certain sounds and tastes aren’t exclusive to one elemental type.

“For this recording, I’ll describe the overall generalities I associate with different elemental aether; variance is high depending on factors such as location or origin, in terms of ambient or crystallized aether, or in the case of spells, if they are being performed correctly or are altered in some capacity.”

“How to spot the catastrophic boom just before the boom becomes catastrophic and it’s too late to do anything about it.”

Synnove _sighed._ Rere giggled.

“Y’sthola, remind me to recalculate the angle needed to ensure Rere lands in Silvertear if thrown from the highest tower in the Toll.”

“Hey!”

“You’d be _fine,_ Hydaelyn likes you best.”

Rere pouted, lower lip pushed out to the point of exaggeration, which meant she wasn’t _actually_ offended.

“To get back on topic: fire. Fire aether most frequently tastes like hot spices, such as peppers; coffee; red meat, such as buffalo; bitter chocolate; cherries; wine. Sound tends to be uniformly brass instruments such as horns and trumpets; very occasionally it can sound like metal striking metal.

“Earth aether is auditorily simple and gustatorily complex. The sound of earth is always rhythmic and steady, if not outright drumming; the sensation of it echoing follows fairly often, too. Taste runs a huge gamut: savory or sweet seasonings, such as cumin or cinnamon; white meat, such as pork; most vegetables, particularly green or starchy vegetables; certain fruits such as apples and figs; bread; cheeses; stews; whiskeys.”

“I’d call most of those foods ‘homey.’”

Synnove frowned thoughtfully. “That’s a fair assessment,” she said after a moment. “Earth aether tends to ‘taste’ comforting.”

“Does that mean Tyr is the ultimate comfort food?”

“Does that mean you want to go flying out of my office window into the harbor?”

“I’m going to shut up now!”

“See how long that lasts,” Synnove said under her breath while her sister smiled beatifically. “Where was I… Ah, wind.”

The Highlander frowned. “Wind aether is another oddity, taste-wise. Mint tends to present quite frequently, along with sweet chocolate, white grapes, vanilla, white wine, arak, olives, and scallions. Thankfully when it seems to be a combination of flavors, it’s complimentary…” She shook her head. “Sound is similar to flutes, chimes, whistles. Bit stereotypical, honestly.

“Lightning…” Synnove paused, frowning again. “Sound tends to be similar to specific string instruments such as violas and cellos; deeper sounds, overall. Low notes on a piano or harpsichord, sometimes simple humming or vibrations. Taste does not tend to be strong, but most frequently has manifested as berries and/or stonefruits. Alcohols such as gin, palm wine, ouzo, and brandy have been common, as well.”

“That is not the element I’d consider boozy,” Rere said idly. She had lain back on the desk and was staring up at the huge arched ceiling of the tower office, twiddling her thumbs.

Synnove shrugged without further comment, already looking at the next item on the list Krile had transcribed on Y’shtola’s behalf. “Water is what one would _think_ would be boozy but I have legitimately never tasted ‘boozy’ water aether before. Tropical fruits dominate; in terms of savory, as horrifically stereotypical as it is, seafood. But almost never in a way that makes sense; I once found a water cluster in a bluefin tuna’s belly that tasted like Coerthan oyster confit.”

“I remember that, you made the _weirdest_ face.”

“I still can’t find the words to describe just how fucked up that taste versus visual dichotomy was. In any event, water aether also sounds like string instruments, mostly harps, dulcimers, and brighter pianos. Also, a very specific drum… Rere, what’s that staccato-sounding drum the Flames have been using in their parades of late?”

The lalafell picked her head up. “Snare drum?”

“That’s the one. Timpanis on occasion, too. And finally…ice. Sound leans towards woodwind instruments like the clarinet and piccolo, as well as bells. _Any_ bell. Taste…hmm. Slaw, fruits that freezes well, fruit juices, Thavnairian sweet tea—”

“That is not tea, that is an _abomination_.”

“You’re a snob.”

“Hypocrite!”

“—some melons, cucumbers, white rum, wintergreen.”

“I still can’t believe you’ve never come across ice aether that tastes like the Bismarck’s root beer float.”

“They introduced it to the menu _last year_ and just how often do I come into contact with ice aether, hm?”

“So?”

Synnove sighed that heavy, gusting sigh everyone who spent longer than thirty minutes with Rereha learned. “Y’shtola, I see a note here about Primordial Light and Dark, but I’ll do that in the next recording along with variations and discrepancies, as first, I need to beat my sister over the head with a grimoire—”

Rereha hopped down from the desk and ran for the office door, shouting _BYE Y’SHTOLA I LOVE YOU BEST_ over her shoulder as she did. She slammed the door shut behind her.

“—and second, I’m hungry and now is a good time to break for lunch. Recording end.”

**[End of recording. Is there anything else on which I may provide assistance?]**

“No, that will be all for now—ah! Before I forget. Please create new nodal designation of own choice.”

**[Clarification requested.]**

“Pick a name for yourself.”

**[…]**

**[Accessing imperial Allagan databases for repository of birth certificates. Scanning records.]**

**[Archive Node Unit 453 rename complete. Archive Node Unit 453 is now Kleio.]**

Synnove smiled, pleased. “It’s nice to meet you, Kleio.”

**[…Thank you. Database scans are currently inconclusive as relates to instruments in modern usage versus those of Allag. What samples are available to provide edification?]**

The Highlander cocked her head, staring at the silver-and-green node for a few long moments, before another smile, this one slow and delighted, crossed her features. “I have a few orchestrion rolls that include solos and chamber music that you could listen to while I have lunch, and I can provide lists of which instruments are used in each piece.”

**[That would be satisfactory.]**

“Perfect! Let’s get you set up…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely blanked on Day 17 for FebHyurary because _too many ideas,_ but decided for Day 18 I'd discuss Synnove's aether synesthesia, and after _that_ I went, "DT YOU FOOL YOU CAN COVER BOTH FOOD _AND_ MUSIC FOR THAT!"
> 
> Also Synnove's animal empathy effect is not extending to Kleio, Synnove's just the sort who would absolutely consider an intelligent machine a person, too.


	6. A Splash of Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Day 22: Water_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr on February 22, 2021.

* * *

High tide in the cove meant that the water level was just two ilms shy of level with the dock that ran along the sides of first the sheltered patio of the villa and then the high walls of the cove itself. Even in late winter, the waters of Eastern La Noscea were unnaturally warm; while the ambient aether of most of Vylbrand seemed to be slowly returning to pre-Calamity norms, with drifting snowflakes dancing over Limsa Lominsa for the first time in eleven years, the eastern half of the island remained stubbornly Cieladales-like in its tropical balminess. Which, as always, made the secluded villa tucked into the Bloodshore cliffs the perfect getaway from responsibilities the whole year ‘round. Lady Shushuha and Lord Rerenasu were generous to allow them the use of it whenever they desired.

Synnove, floating face up in the water next to the dock to sunbathe, cracked an eye open. “Roksana, do _not._ ”

The white pearl carbunclet in question, galloping at full speed down the dock with every intention of cannonballing into the water and splashing a dozing Aymeric and Amandina on the lounge right at the edge, went wide-eyed with the panic of the caught-red-handed and tried to bring herself to a stop. Unfortunately, her momentum was such that she still ended up skidding down the dock at full speed and shooting off the end a few fulms beyond before finally entering the water with a sorry _plop!_ rather than an enthusiastic _SPLASH!_

Synnove sighed gustily and, shaking her head, kicked over to the floating bamboo chair she had been reading in earlier. She hauled herself into it, though her legs still dangled into the water, and reached behind her for the towel draped on its back to dry herself. Galette, wearing a large floppy sunhat in the floating chair just next to her, took a scornful slurp of her rolanberry lassi through a squiggly straw.

“No judging your baby sister,” Synnove said mildly, rubbing her hair and patting her arms with the towel. “Pranking is an art form.”

The emerald carbuncle sniffed disdainfully. Her summoner chuckled and folded up the towel, putting it on the back of the chair again, and settled in to wait.

Roksana finally poked her head above the water and somehow managed to swim over in a sulky manner. Even putting all her focus into radiating childish displeasure, she didn’t merely paddle, as all her siblings did. Instead, she _glided,_ as smoothly as any of the megaladons that basked in the reefs off Costa del Sol, perfectly content in the water in a way she wasn’t _quite_ on land. Synnove supposed that was to be expected when a carbuncle was primarily aspected to water aether.

Her youngest clambered onto the edge of the chair and then crawled into her lap with a whine. _Mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!_

“Roksanaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” she replied in the same tone, gathering up the carbunclet to cuddle.

_How did you knoooooooooooooow?_

“I’m your mama. I _always_ know.” She hadn’t been all that quiet, either; a galloping carbuncle was still a galloping carbuncle, no matter the size. Not that she was going to _tell_ the little mischief-maker that.

_It wasn’t going to be THAT big a splash! I am still very small!_

“There is a fine line between a prank as something fun and a prank as something mean,” Synnove said firmly. “Your Papa has been working very hard recently and hasn’t been sleeping much, or even very well. This would have been on the _mean_ side of the line, my darling.”

Roksana physically drooped from her ears to her tails, stunned, eyes huge as her expression _shattered,_ and she shoved her face into her mama’s neck. _I’m sorry!_ she warbled.

Synnove gently pet her back and pulled away just enough to kiss Roksana on the patch of scarlet between her ears. “It’s all right, Roksana,” she said softly, sing-song. “Nothing untoward happened this time, but in the future, you must be a little more mindful of the people around you.”

A miserable little sniffle. _Okay, Mommy._

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught Synnove’s attention, and she glanced over to the lounge on the edge of the dock. Aymeric had shoved a loafing Amandina off the top of his face—she had been there a _while,_ and Synnove suspected Tyr had taught the black pearl carbunclet how to put herself slightly out of phase so whomever she slept on could still breathe—to turn his head to face her and raise an inquisitive eyebrow at her, concern in his icy blue eyes.

Synnove gave him a discrete thumbs up.

His eyes crinkled in that sweet, fond manner of his when he smiled, and then they closed, and he went slowly limp as sleep reclaimed him. Amandina roused just enough to wiggle back up into her previous spot over her papa’s entire face, now taking the form of a pancake rather than a loaf, and mushed her own tiny face into his hair. A muffled snore escaped Aymeric, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

She was distracted from turning into a puddle of Highlander goo at the sight of them by Galette chittering to her baby sister: _If you must be mean with a prank, the target should_ deserve _it._

Roksana sniffled again and turned her head to look at Galette. _What do you mean?_

 _Jerks always deserve it,_ Galette said primly, pausing to take another sip of lassi. _Commanding officers abusing subordinates. Certain Garleans. Hannish mathematicians. Ascians._

“Galette, you don’t prank Ascians,” Synnove said dryly.

_No, you’re right. You unleash hell on Ascians._

“That’s my girl.”

_But I can’t unleash hell yet!_

_We’ll work you up to it._

“Ga _lette_.”

 _We all know the twins are getting egi subroutines at some point! We might as well start teaching them how to channel all those types of things_ now.

“Teaching them how to cackle maniacally doesn’t count, lovely.”

Galette huffed. Roksana giggled. Synnove reached out to scratch her eldest’s cheek, until the emerald carbuncle reluctantly purred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roksana is definitely the more hyperactive twin. And Amandina is veeeeeery fond of facehugging for her naps. :D


	7. A Glimpse of Yesteryear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Day 23: Dungeon_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr on February 23, 2021.

* * *

She can’t help but simply stare, ignoring the Scorpion dead and smoking before her in the courtyard, her chest tight and heavy as she finally drinks in the sight of the city of her birth. Heron rests her hand on her head in acknowledgment, and then Heron and Rere and Alakhai are moving ahead into the palace. Giving her a moment, letting her process.

She hears the Temple Knights coming up behind her; the clank of heavy steel and ringmail, Aymeric’s strong voice, the cadence of his knights’ chorused replies. The formation streams by her at a steady clip, but Lucia and Aymeric both slow, just a bit, to reach out and touch either of her shoulders in passing. She gives them a watery smile when they briefly look back—both their gazes are fond and understanding, before they turn and duty takes over once more—and then she’s alone. Even the carbuncles aren’t with her right now, ranging out to ensure a stray Garlean soldier doesn’t ambush her.

The last time she had seen Ala Mhigo, she had been five, and the city had been afire with blue ceruleum raining from the sky. Now she is twenty-nine, almost thirty, and the beautiful striated sandstone of the buildings all around seems to glow in the sunlight. That first dash with her sisters through the streets had been disorienting, every color and piece of fabric around her familiar-but-not, and now she realizes why she kept stumbling. This is the Ala Mhigo that Da and Auntie and Eydis think of, with that faraway look in their eyes. This it the Ala Mhigo that shades the very earliest memories she has, before grief and fire tore it apart.

Ala Mhigo isn’t home for her, not anymore. That’s Mealvaan’s Gate; her little house on the La Noscean coast; her aunt’s cooking; her sisters’ laughing group hugs; Aymeric’s smile and the warmth of his affection.

But it’s home for so many others still, those here in Gyr Abania and in exile in the Twelveswood and Thanalan and La Noscea and scattered elsewhere across the star. Synnove can, at the very least, free this city for them.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Synnove's feelings about the Liberation of Ala Mhigo are complex, to say the least. (She was absolutely _bawling_ as the Ala Mhigan anthem was sung openly for the first time in twenty-four years, though.)


	8. A Host of Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Day 24: Aetheryte_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr on February 24, 2021.

* * *

“Synnove! You can continue trying to hack an aetheryte after lunch!”

“I’ll be inside in a minute, Aymeric!”

“You said that five minutes ago! And then ten minutes before that!”

Synnove sighed and hung her head, biting down the urge to snap in annoyance. One calming breath, then two, then three, and she set down her quill and notepad and pushed herself to feet, though when she spun on her heel, she wasn’t able to entirely stop herself from sulkily stomping into the house. “I’m trying to break the Sharlayan monopoly on the aethernet!” she whined.

Aymeric gave her a Look of mixed fondness and exasperation as she passed the threshold, and closed the front door behind her. “And you can do it on a full stomach,” he said over his shoulder, walking down the hallway to the kitchen.

She grumbled wordlessly and followed him into the kitchen. She supposed she _was_ feeling rather peckish…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I briefly thought about trying to expand the original snippet beyond just a couple dozen fleshed out descriptions but decided no. Still too busy with Wolmeric Week stuff. XD


	9. A Feast of Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Day 28: Celebrate!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr on February 28, 2021.

* * *

Baderon, I’tolwann, and more than a few patrons at the bar whooped and hollered as Synnove tilted her head back and chugged down an entire pint of the Drowning Wench’s finest ale. One gulp, two gulps, three gulps—

Synnove slammed her empty flagon on the countertop with a gasp, _thud!_ of wood on wood surprisingly loud over the usual sounds of a tavern at night. The cheering reached a crescendo, and the Highlander smirked and bowed as she accepted her applause and more than a few congratulatory slaps on the back.

Baderon put his hands on his hips as I’tolwann slid a tray rattling with empty shot glasses and two huge bottles of whiskey down the bar to Synnove. “Ye keep drinkin’ like that, lass,” he said, “and ye’ll end up atop the Mizzenmast again, an’ I don’t think the Admiral’ll be keen on ‘elping you down this time!”

“My tolerance is much better than it was when I was eighteen,” she said primly, picking up the tray, “never mind Rere’s influence. Besides, the Admiral can’t complain overmuch when it’s _her_ aethercannon prototype we finalized today!”

“ _Arcanists_ ,” Baderon said in only partially-feigned disgust, the attempt otherwise ruined by the large grin on his craggy face. “That explains why ye and yer mad friends have invaded my fine establishment! Off with ye, ye degenerate!”

Synnove cackled at him, turned on her heel, and fairly skipped over to the tables she and her fellow arcanists had shoved together when they had tumbled into the bar two bells ago. The assembled arcanists cheered at her arrival, shoving dishes and empty flagons out of the way to make room for the tray, with one of them taking one of the whiskey bottles and popping the cork to begin pouring the amber liquid into the glasses.

Shaking his head, Baderon made to get back to the business of cleaning glasses and refilling flagons and tossing out troublemakers, when a chitter caught his attention. He stopped, and glanced down, one eyebrow going up.

Galette, sitting prim and proper on the bar stool right before him, blinked sweetly at him and purred.

The middle-aged hyur leaned down to bring himself as close as possible to the emerald carbuncle’s eye level, one arm on the countertop and the other propping his head up with his fist against his cheek. “Now, little miss,” he drawled, “yer ma has rules ‘bout unauthorized snackin’, and good ones, too. Don’t think I don’t remember the last time ye had so much sugar ye ended up launched over the ‘arbor in an ‘energy expenditure event’–” he raised up the hand flat on the countertop just enough to make quotes with them for emphasis, his voice briefly losing its usual Vylbrandian cadence to mimic the clipped, precise tone of a Gate assessor, “–that ‘ad ‘alf the city thinkin’ the Garleans or the kobolds ‘ad launched a surprise attack.”

The carbuncle blinked again. Then, she reared up to brace herself on the counter, and headbutted his other cheek with another loud, windchime purr.

Baderon glanced askance at her. “That’s blackmail, little miss.”

A chirp. _Yes. Also, I’m adorable._

“That ye are.” He relented and scritched behind her ears, glancing over with an exaggerated motion to where Synnove was taking her seat and accepting a shot of whiskey. He looked to the patron just to Galette’s right—a greying Sea Wolf fisherwoman and a regular—who mimed tying her lips shut; then he looked to the patron on Galette’s left—another Wench regular, a Plainsfolk Yellowjacket—who made an ‘x’ over his heart and winked. Satisfied, Baderon leaned back and reached under the bar, pulling out a plate upon which sat a huge slice of Lominsan cream pie.

Galette’s front paws went _tippity-tap tippity-tap tippity-tap_ so loudly that Baderon worriedly darted his eyes over to Synnove again while he set the plate before the carbuncle. Luck seemed to be with him, however, as the Highlander was laughing at something one of her companions had said, head thrown back as she sipped her whiskey, and oblivious to what was happening at the bar. His shoulders relaxed.

A delighted, though quiet, chitter regained his attention. _Thank you, Uncle Baderon!_

Baderon grinned and gave the carbuncle a gentle pat on the head. “Welcome, missy.”

(Over with the arcanists, Synnove took another sip of whiskey and shook her head. Like she never knew when people snuck treats to her sugar-obsessed eldest child.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! \o/

**Author's Note:**

> I posted (nearly) every day for FebHyurary, the vast majority of which were screenshots; if you're curious, you can see my round up post for my own entries [HERE](https://dragons-bones.tumblr.com/post/644404068207509504/febhyurary-round-up) on tumblr!


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